


if you chase the devil you're going to get burned

by izzygone



Series: the path to paradise begins in hell [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Car Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Roughness, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 11:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7637869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzygone/pseuds/izzygone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically Kavinsky fucks Ronan on the hood of a car and Gansey gets to watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you chase the devil you're going to get burned

**Author's Note:**

> Just finished the Raven Cycle, and I ship pynch I SWEAR... But Kavinsky ended up being my favorite character. Oops. 
> 
> Not beta'd bc I'm still in the market for one. Typed on my phone on a midnight train (yeah, really) so please be forgiving about formatting, spelling, typos, etc. 
> 
> Enjoy ;)

They're at the spot, and Ronan is bent over the white Mitsubishi, shirt hiked up over his head effectively tying his arms in place against the car hood and jeans and boxers halfway down his legs, caught at the knees so he can't fucking move. He fucking loves it.

Kavinsky is behind him, dicking around on his phone - probably taking pictures - laughing and sucking down vodka like he has gills. "Fuck, Lynch, look at you," Ronan feels a hand run gently down his back, over the curve of his ass, "Does Dick the Third know what a slut his little pet is?" A hard smack comes down on Ronan's left asscheek, and he doesn't even try to stifle the moan it elicits, his cock bumping brutally against the engine-warm hood of the Evo beneath him. He can't believe he's letting this happen to him - again - but he can't seem to regret it either. "What would he say, do you think? If he knew about this," another smack, hard and unyielding, lighting sparks in Ronan's vision so he has to bite his tongue to tame his reaction.  Kavinsky continues, idly and uncaring, "If he knew how you easy bend over for me? How you beg for my cock? How you like to come with my hand on your throat, huh?" Hard slaps follow hard slaps and Ronan is hot, so hard, so out of his body with want, he's drooling shamelessly onto the gleaming hood.

Then Kavinsky grabs at the back of his head, pulling Ronan’s neck back with it in a skull-crushing grip so it really hurts, and Ronan can’t not love it. "What are you doing? Is that drool on my fucking car, you fucking fag?" Ronan can only make a gurgling noise in response – not like Kavinsky really cares about the goddamn hood, there's about 100 identical hoods on identical cars surrounding them on all sides. Kavinsky slams Ronan’s face against the car anyway. Not hard, not really, but not gently either. Ronan doesn't break his nose or anything, but the force of it was just shy of that, and he gurgles again, giddy with the violence of it.

"What am I going to do with you, Lynch?” He hums like he might be considering a real problem, “Maybe I should call Dick. See how _he_ wants to discipline you. You listen to him, don't you, slut? Fucking love to obey him, don't you? Drop to your goddamn knees with your mouth open without him having to even ask, I bet." Kavinsky is right behind him, and Ronan can feel the rough stab of his belt buckle against his bare thighs as he drapes his body over him to whisper all this in his ear. Ronan whines a little at the idea of Gansey seeing him like this. It would be terrible.

It would be fucking gloriously hot.

He shutters as a little precome dribbles from his cock and onto the car hood. He involuntarily bucks back against Kavinsky's clothed crotch.

Kavinsky laughs again, "Shit, you do want it, don't you? Want your precious leader to find you like this, want him to see just how desperate you are for _dick_." he punctuates this last word with a roll of his hips, forcing Ronan's knees to rub uncomfortably against the grill. Ronan just moans again.

_Fuck_. When did he become such a slut? It doesn't matter. He wants this, even when he hates it.

He feels Kavinsky's breath on his ear and is sure he must be hallucinating when he hears: "Well lucky for you, he's on his way."

Ronan's whole body tenses as he whispers,  " _No_."

Kavinsky laughs again, " _Yeah_. He'll be here any minute. I texted him 10 minutes ago."

Ten minutes ago, Ronan himself had only just gotten here. In that time alone, Kavinsky had managed to reduce him down to this. And how far they still had to go...

"I don't believe you," He manages, his pulse so fast, he can feel every drop of blood on fire under his skin. And it’s all heading straight for his cock. He's never going to be as hard as this again. Ever. It's outside the realm of reality.

Kavinsky reaches back and grabs something from his jeans pocket. It's Ronan's phone. _Fuck_ , and Ronan had just changed the password, too. Fucking Russian motherfucker. Probably dreamed something to break passcodes or some shit. Kavinsky places the phone face up on the hood in front of Ronan's face. It's open to the messaging app.

The outgoing message: _fairgrounds_. _now._  

And the reply: _omw_

Ronan groans. Gansey is coming. Here. Now. Any minute. Ronan's been caught in nearly as bad positions before, and he's pretty sure Gansey will be pissed but eventually get over it. But... What if he brings Noah? Or...

Adam.

Shit. Ronan pushes hard back at Kavinsky, and this time it's an attempt at escape. _Fuck_ , he wishes his cock wasn't so hard right now. Wishes he could think of anything other than how Gansey's face is going to look when he finds him like this. Like Ronan is a naughty child he can’t trust to be left alone.

_Shit_. He should get out of here.

Kavinsky slams him back down against the hood, hard, and keeps his hand flat against the nape of Ronan’s neck, immobilizing him. "Did I say you could fucking move, Lynch?"

Ronan can't help it. He’s always had more vehemence than sense. He growls back "Fuck. You.  _Joseph_." Even though he knows the reaction it’ll earn him –- Kavinsky leans back and slaps Ronan’s ass so hard his vision goes white for a second. He's so hard he could hammer a nail.

And he can feel Kavinsky has the same problem. He whines again, a little unwillingly.

Kavinsky is breathing heavy and starts to rock his hips, grinding his jean covered hips brutally against Ronan's soft, scarred skin. "Here's what we're going to do," his voice is a hoarse whisper, "I'm going to tongue fuck you until your so wet and slick, I could slip my whole arm inside you without you even noticing." Ronan bucks again. _Fuck_. "Then when your precious Dick the Third comes around that corner, I'm going to shove _my_  dick so deep inside you, you’re going to vomit out my come. Then I'm going to fuck you until you come just like that, just from having my cock inside you. And your little friend Dick is going to get to watch it all." He slaps Ronan's ass again, gentler this time, almost playfully, "How does that make you feel, Lynch? Little Dicky is going to know exactly what a slut you are, see just how desperate you are for cock. What do you think he'll do, huh? Maybe he'll give you a little every now and then, maybe you'll finally get to suck that dick you've been dreaming about. What do you think, slut?" He punctuates each of these last 5 words with little jerks of his hips.

"Are you just going to stand there or do you plan to use that mouth for something useful for a change?" Ronan sighs, loving the hard slap he gets in return for it.

But Kavinsky doesn't say anything else. He does, after all, have a job to do here.

He drops to his knees behind Ronan, _finally_ , saying only "Don't you dare try to fucking get away," and that's it before Ronan loses all his higher functions.

There's only this: Kavinsky's tongue slick and hot against his hole, forcing itself in, pressing and moving and thrusting and _fuck_.

Ronan knows, of course he does, that he shouldn't let this happen. If he made a real attempt to get away, Kavinsky would just call him a pussy but let him leave. He knows it and Kavinsky knows it.

But they both already know he's not even going to pretend.

Yeah, Gansey is going to see him like this. Yeah, maybe even Adam will. But fuck it. Ronan doesn't like to lie, and he's done hiding this. This is him. They were both going to find out eventually, find out how truly goddamn screwed up and broken he really is; find out that no matter how hard they try, there's no saving him.

How he'll deal with the aftermath is a concern for a later time. Because right now there's _this_ : Kavinsky sliding a finger into him next to that unrelenting tongue. His fingers are wet, fucker probably dreamed up some wonder-lube just for this occasion, and Ronan nearly screams as a finger grazes his prostate.

Kavinsky never messed around about this. He’s always efficient and doesn't pretend he has anything less than a goal to achieve. Ronan doesn't doubt he’ll be able to take a fist up the ass by the end of this. Two fingers now, and Ronan feels a smirk against his hole, feels lube dripping down the inside of his thighs. It's a deliciously dirty sensation, and his cock pulses and twitches against the car hood. He braces himself, feeling like his knees might give out any second. He's trying not to cry out, not to beg for Kavinsky to add another finger, add his whole goddamn hand like he promised. And he realizes he's straining – listening for the sound of the Pig. Gansey could be here any minute, and Ronan bites his lip almost hard enough to draw blood.

Kavinsky adds another finger. Three fingers and one tongue, undoing him from the inside. More lube. Another finger. _Fuck_. He's drenched. The hood of the car is slick with his precome. His chest is on fire and it’s burning a hole right through him.

There's so much inside him, it'd be impossible for Kavinsky to avoid his prostate and he's obviously not even trying. He's got one hand almost entirely inside Ronan and the other is leaving a 5 fingered bruise on Ronan's hip. His cock is so hard in his pants, he's surprised the zipper hasn't exploded. He loves this. Loves having Lynch all fucked open and hollow, waiting to be filled. Loves having Lynch need him, _want_ him, even if it's just for this, just for a moment. He doesn't want to share, but he will this time. Because he _knows_. He knows what Lynch needs, even though he denies it, and knows that for all his trying, Richard Campbell Gansey the Third could never provide _this_. Could never fuck Ronan like he needs because he hasn't got the hate in his heart.

But Joseph Kavinsky does. And tonight, he's going to fuck all that hate right into Ronan. And it'll all grow back so he can do it again tomorrow.

He finger fucks Ronan for a long time. And Ronan really doesn't beg, not with words at least, but with his body. He's rocking onto Kavinsky's hand, fucking himself on Kavinsky's knuckles. And Kavinsky is ready, wants to fuck him for real, wants to slide his dick into Ronan's wet heat and explode there.

But he has to wait. They both have to wait. He wants the first thing for Ronan to feel when he sees Gansey pull up is Kavinsky's cock up his ass.

He's getting inpatient. Thinks for a second maybe Gansey's going to pussy out and not even show, but then they hear it. It's the sound of an engine so loud, it sounds like the car has smokers lung. Kavinsky wonders sometimes how the thing even runs.

Ronan is suddenly so still, it's like he's morphed into rock. It's too late for him to go anywhere, though, and a second later the Camaro is rolling into view and Kavinsky is up off his knees with the zip to his jeans down in a flash.

**

Gansey doesn't know exactly what he was expecting to find at the abandoned fairgrounds outside of Henrietta. But it wasn't this: a hundred or more gleaming white Mitsubishi Evos, exactly like the one Joseph Kavinsky makes trouble around town in. He doesn't see Ronan immediately, so he drives the Pig slowly down an alley lined with white cars on both sides, looking for the BMW.

He sees it, a little bit ahead, nearly hidden by a copse of trees about as far from the actual "fair" area a person could be while still being within the territory. He navigates to it slowly. He still doesn't know what to expect, but he has a sinking feeling Kavinsky is involved. Now that he thinks of it, he can't be certain it was Ronan who texted and not Kavinsky just dicking around with Ronan's phone. He wonders if he's about to drive into a situation he's not going to like. Then he's imagining worse things - what if Ronan is hurt? What if Kavinsky has incapacitated him or kidnapped him or -

Gansey guns it around the corner, fear crawling up his arms like a dark snake, and then abruptly has to hit the brakes.

For a second, he can't believe what he's seeing. He closes his eyes and has to shake his head. He opens them again and this is real. Very real.

He sees this: Ronan, bent over the hood of yet another white Mitsubishi. He's naked - no, not quite, but near enough - and Kavinsky is behind him, fingers wrapped tightly around Ronan’s throat and... He's railing into him like he's getting paid for it.

Anger swells up in Gansey for a hot second until he realizes that while Ronan is clearly bound, he's also very clearly not unwilling. He's staring back at Gansey still sitting in the pig, he's eyes piercing and unrepentant, bracing himself against Kavinsky's car, not fighting but actually rocking against Kavinsky behind him. Gansey can see how hard he is.

And then Gansey is experiencing a different emotion. It's not quite anger, but it's hot and it makes him want to scratch his skin off. It might be jealousy, he's not really sure. He can't believe but his immediate thought is _why didn't he come to me if he needed this?_ But that's absurd. Almost as absurd as what is going on here in front of him.

It’s like a live porno, right there, just 6 feet in front of him. And Ronan wanted him to see it. He throws on the parking brake and unbuttons his pants.

**

Kavinsky doesn't have to see the look on Ronan's face when the Camaro pulls into view to know that he's about two seconds from coming, so he immediately pulls him up off the hood of the car and makes his fingers a tight band around the base of Ronan’s cock, effectively shutting that down at the same time as he slides his cock into Ronan's hot little hole.

Ronan's frustrated moan is almost loud enough to be heard over the roar of the Pig. Kavinsky wraps his free hand around Ronan’s neck and pulls him up so Ronan’s back is pressed against his chest, and Ronan has to move his hands and brace himself above the Evo, no longer able to rely on it for support. “Yeah,” Kavinsky groans, “Give him a good show, Lynch, let him see how bad you need it.” He’s holding Ronan’s throat so tightly, Ronan couldn’t reply even if he wanted to, and that’s perfectly fucking fine for all parties involved

Richard Gansey III is just sitting in his car. His face is smooth and unforgiving, but neither Kavinsky nor Ronan miss the unmistakable movement of Gansey’s arm behind the wheel.

He _likes_ this.

They all like this.

Why didn’t Kavinsky think of this earlier? He could have been fucking with these two for _ages_.

Ronan has locked eyes with Gansey, and Gansey with him. They’re staring at each other, and they’re going to get off like that. Kavinsky is just an accessory to this fact, but he’d accepted this inevitability from the start.

Doesn’t mean he’s not fucking angry about it, though. He tightens his grip on Ronan’s throat so he gasps and fucks back onto Kavinsky’s cock. _Yeah_ , that’s more like it. _Don’t forget about me, you fuckers_ , is all Kavinsky thinks before he gets lost in the sensation.

Ronan is so hot inside, so slick and loose… and Kavinsky did that to him. Ronan opened for _his_ fingers and _his_ tongue. Kavinsky wants to shout it at Gansey, tell that pretentious fuck that Ronan didn’t belong to just him but it was a laughable idea, and a lie at that. So instead he fucks his rage into Lynch. Clenches his hand tighter and tighter around Ronan’s throat, angles his hips so his cock is hitting the spot inside that makes Ronan see stars and clench his teeth. He’s going to make Ronan come just like this – and it wasn’t going to be difficult, not at all.

_I’m going to tear apart_ , Ronan thinks, absurdly. It’s not even his body he thinks is going to be destroyed – even though Kavinsky is fucking him like there’s something inside him he can lure out by force. It’s his fucking soul, he’s sure. Because part of him is here, bent slightly over this car, his wrists tangled in his own fucking shirt, getting the life strangled out of him, and part of him is in the Pig, watching Gansey fuck his own hand. It’s so funny, too, because, honestly, Ronan doesn’t even think of Gansey this way.

Well.

Maybe he does. Sometimes. In the shower, or late at night, or when he wakes up with a hard on to the sound of Gansey moving around outside his door. But it’s like… a sexual thing. Well, _obviously_. But it’s not… it’s not what he feels for Adam. It’s just.. Gansey is Gansey and he’s so good looking and out of reach that it makes Ronan’s cock _throb_. Like his cock is throbbing now. Kavinsky stroked him a couple of times after cutting off his orgasm the first time, but hasn’t touched him since. But his cock is a living thing, twitching and jerking with each slam of Kavinsky’s cock against his prostate which seems now to be non-stop.

This is another thing Kavinsky never messes around about. He knows exactly what and how much Ronan needs, so much that Ronan is a little afraid that maybe he _dreamt_ him.

Gansey hasn’t broken eye contact with Ronan this entire time. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t even blinked, and Ronan is staring right back. There’s no apology and no lies here. Kavinsky is fucking the life out of Ronan, and Gansey wants to see it happen in real time. He doesn’t know why – this scenario has never crossed his mind, would never have even entered his dreams. But he needs this now because he wants to _know_. He’s never seen Ronan race, but he feels like he’s seeing it now. And he likes it probably more than he should.

This is probably the most morally reprehensible thing Gansey has ever done, watching his best friend get hate-fucked against a hot car, and it makes him _so_  hard, he’s going to want to _die_ from thinking about it tomorrow. But not right now. Right now, he’s so overwhelmed by the heat in Ronan’s eyes, he’s fucking his own fist and biting down on his bottom lip. He’s got the window down, and he can hear Ronan’s strangled pleas just barely over the purr of the Camero’s engine. It’s obvious Ronan wants to come, that he’s going to even though Kavinsky doesn’t have a hand anywhere near his dick. Gansey can’t help it – he brings a hand to his mouth, eyes still locked with Ronan’s as he licks it, gets it real wet, even takes a single finger into his mouth and _sucks_ and –

Ronan’s whole body goes taut again, and, as Kavinsky rams a particularly hard stroke against his prostate, he comes so hard he feels it down to his _feet_. He starts to collapse, but Kavinsky is quick and releases his throat to grab his hips and hold him up.

Gansey’s spit-slick hand immediately finds his dick and he jerks it even harder than before as he watches Kavinsky flatten Ronan’s chest back onto the Mitsubishi and start to fuck him with wild abandon. Now Kavinsky and Gansey have locked eyes, and they’re not going to give up either. Ronan is lax against the car and Kavinsky is using him like he’s a sex doll with a pulse, completely uncaring about Ronan’s over-stimulated state. And Ronan is too sex drunk to care anyway, even though Kavinsky is fucking him against a pool of his own come on the hood.

Gansey and Kavinsky are in a race, each chasing their own orgasm like they’ve just taken off from a red light, and for a second, it isn't clear who’s going to win.

But Kavinsky is a racer and Gansey’s never even been on the track.

When Kavinsky slips two fingers into Ronan’s hole right beside his cock, and Ronan moans like he’s been liquefied, that’s it. For _everyone_. Kavinsky comes so hard sparks flare in the corner of his eyes and it’s all he can do too watch Gansey coming apart too. Dick the Third, that pussy, closes his eyes as it happens and Kavinsky manages to laugh. He pulls out of Ronan all at once, and doesn’t bother even trying to pick up all the pieces of the broken boy beneath him.

He zips his fly and steps away. Before Gansey is even out of the Pig and over to Ronan to fawn over his poor pet, Kavinsky is in the driver’s seat of another white Mitsubishi. He’s got fire in his veins as he peels out of the lot and he knows _exactly_ how he’s going to light up this 4 th of July.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm the-real-izzygone on tumblr, so come chat with me there literally any time. 
> 
> Seriously. I'm a super lame nerd and I'm lonely.
> 
> Hope you liked the fic :)


End file.
